Confession
by katie janeway
Summary: Detectives cheat death all the time. But occasionally, a criminal successfully kills one. Now, those left behind must pick up the pieces while the one responsible awaits punishment.
1. Teaser

Everyone wishes things could be different. Not everyone gets that wish. Before I was killed by Ian Hendricks, I was an amateur detective. I risked my life frequently, and I knew that each case could be my last. As time grew on, I became a little less afraid of the idea, though I will not say I stopped fearing death. No. That would've been impossible.

When I was shot, I knew that my life as a detective was over. I was afraid, but I think I handled it well.

I don't regret dying. Well, I do, but there were far worse ways to go than that. No, I regret that Frank had to be there. I would rather have died alone, than see the look that was in his eyes before I closed mine for the last time. Heartbreak is a hard thing to bear as you pass on. That's how ghosts are made.

I am not a ghost. I don't know what I am, or where I am, though if I had to guess, this would be heaven. But unlike all those stories you hear when you're alive, where I am, there's no hint of what's happening. Just a sense that things are progressing as they should be.

I'm fine here. I only hope Frank is okay.


	2. Confession

﻿ 

**_Disclaimer: It's a very good thing they don't belong to me. _**

A detective's life is a risky business. You acquire enemies, attract assassins, become the victim of strange accidents. But you can only cheat Death so many times. Then He wants payment.

I didn't originally intend to kill anyone, I swear to that. But, hey, they fought back, you know? Sure, I'd kidnapped them, but all they had to do was sit tight while her father got the money. But they fought back, so I shot my gun. Self-defense, that's all it was. I fired in self-defense. And I guess her number was up.

The bullet made a small hole in her stomach. Just a small one. But the blood…wow. It was even better than the movies in a way. Brighter, you know? I mean, I feel bad about killing her. But that was an amazing sight. All the blood, so red, so much…I'm never going to be satisfied with TV again.

Well, he forgot all about me. Went straight to her side. Isn't that against the rules of being a detective? Shouldn't he have come after me first, worry about the criminal element, before going to his partner? Seems like having your partner get hurt is a frequent risk anyways; they should've been prepared.

Well, he didn't. He just knelt beside her, trying to stay calm, but he acted like a sissy. Crying, barely able to talk….c'mon, it's a business risk! He's seen people die a lot of times, how is this really that much different other than he knew her well? He's lost other friends to his line of work. I've read it in the papers. Betcha he didn't cry over them while they died.

I took the crying as my cue to leave. So I ran outside, tried to get the hell out of there. I made it as far as the next city over before I got caught. But I got caught, and now here I am. Talking to you, an officer whose name I don't remember. Giving you my confession like a good little boy. Giving you my confession so you can try me and fry me for the murder of Nancy Drew. Honestly, I don't think you really care if it was self-defense, do you? No, I can see you don't. Of course not. Doesn't matter. If you don't believe me, I guess my number's gonna be up soon, too. It'll be my turn to pay Death's bill. Better that than looking at him again – if you ask me, he needs to be watched. He's got a violent temper, that Hardy fellow. Did you see the way he tried to attack me when you brought me in here? Maybe he should see a counselor or something….

Ok, ok, quit giving me that look. I get it. You have all you need. I'll shut up.


	3. Death

﻿ 

**_Twenty-fours hours earlier…._**

Frank had his back turned when the gun when off. It wasn't intentional; he'd gotten knocked to the side a minute beforehand. But he hadn't worried too much, since Nancy would easily be able to hold her own in the few seconds before he rejoined the action. But then the gun went off.

At first, he didn't understand. The gun had been knocked to the floor – he saw it there still. So what was going on? Had the police arrived?

And then Nancy collapsed. And he saw another gun in their kidnapper's hand. His eyesight mysteriously began to blur as he looked at his friend.

"Oh god….Nancy!" He forgot about the man with the gun, forgot about the risk to his own life, he just got to her side as fast as he could. "Nancy, ohmigod, oh no, no…"

The blood was already emerging, crimson against the white blouse she was wearing. He frantically ripped a strip of cloth from his own shirt and pressed it to her, trying to staunch the blood.

"Nancy…." The tears were running freely down his cheeks now. "Nancy, fight, c'mon, you'll be okay, I'll get you out of here…"

"Frank," she said softly, to get his attention. He gazed at her sadly. "Frank, go after him."

"Nancy, I can't. You've lost so much blood already, I need to help you, the police can get him later, I-" He was babbling, almost incoherently,

"Frank." Her voice was oddly calm. Her expression was pained and afraid, but yet her voice was calm, to soothe him. He didn't know how she managed that. Aquamarine eyes stared into his own brown ones, forcing him to focus on her. For a single moment, their gazes locked, and he actually did feel calmer. But then her eyes closed.

"No, Nancy…don't do this, c'mon…" He checked for the pulse, checked for breathing. Barely there and then not there at all. "Don't leave me, Nancy, c'mon…" He tried CPR, then frantically looked for a phone. Their kidnapper had used a cell phone to make the ransom call, and that appeared to be gone. Where the hell were phones when you needed them? Finally, he had to admit he needed to leave her side, find a phone somewhere. But he didn't want to leave. They were in a mostly abandoned district, not likely to be in reach of a phone.

He ran two blocks before finding a payphone. Two blocks that took him away from her, away from keeping her alive. He rushed through the 911 call, broke protocol and hung up after the ambulance was dispatched, and ran back to her.

The medics had to pry Frank away from doing CPR when they arrived. Nancy was loaded onto a stretcher, and her face left uncovered, because he went hysterical when they tried to place the sheet over her head.

"She's not dead," he kept protesting. "She can't be dead. She just can't be." He was placed in another ambulance, and both rushed to the hospital. It was no good.

Nancy was pronounced dead on arrival, and Frank's world collapsed.


	4. Fenton

﻿ 

_'How many times?_ he wonders as he stares at the paper. _How many times have I looked at the paper and seen the photo of someone I recognize on the front page? And how many times has that photo, and the article tied to it, been related to my work as a detective? Or my sons' work? And how many times do I know, without even reading the headline, that that person is dead?'_

Fenton Hardy remembered when Iola Morton died. How torn up Joe had been. The way he carried those keys around, a morbid souvenir that helped him to cope. He had hoped never to have to endure that again. The loves of his sons' lives weren't supposed to die until they were older. Hopefully so much older that he and Laura were long gone.

And here he was again, watching a son suffer through one of the worst hells there is on earth.

Frank's reaction was far more frightening than Joe's. He had withdrawn inside himself, so deep that the only thing that had roused him from his grief had been the moment he had seen Nancy's murderer face-to-face after the man's capture and arrest. And that had resulted in an anger that frightened those around him, for Frank seemed to want nothing more than to slowly, painfully, murder the man before him. Had he not been restrained by Fenton, Joe, and Carson Drew as well as a local police officer, Fenton had no doubt his son would be awaiting bail.

Now they were seated in the Drew's living room. Several saddened people in one room, including Frank, who seemed to be not there at all. He had grown thinner in the four days since Nancy's death, having not eaten a thing. If he didn't eat something soon, the doctor had warned Fenton, Frank would be in the hospital.

_"If he stops drinking water, bring him back to us immediately. Otherwise, come back if he hasn't eaten in a week."_

_"A week?"_

_"He can go that long without really eating much before we need worry. And I would advise getting him counseling straight away."_

Looking at Frank now, Fenton almost wondered if Frank was intentionally starving himself, rather than having simply forgotten any hunger in his grief. _'And they weren't even together….were they?'_

He had asked Joe this question numerous times when Frank broke up with Callie, and he'd learned of Nancy and Ned's falling out. After all, he had noticed the special relationship between them. But if anything had been going on, not even their families knew.

Now he and the others would have to wonder forever. Frank would keep everything locked up, and Nancy was no longer around to tell them.


	5. Brothers

﻿ 

**A/N: Normal typing Joe. Italics Frank's thoughts. I also know they may be OOC, but I figure everyone's personality probably changes a bit in times of grief.**

Frank was always the rational one of the two of us. But now, to look at him, I seem sane by comparison. I know what he is going through, and I know that everyone grieves differently. But this isn't my brother in front of me. This is a shell.

_Joe, why are you looking at me like that? You of all people should know what I'm feeling. You lost Iola._

Does he know I'm here? That I'm standing over him, watching him, wondering if I'm ever going to get my brother back? Nancy, when you left, I think you took Frank with you.

_I broke a promise to her. She never knew it, but I made a promise not to let her die. I'd always kept it before, why not now? Nancy, why did it have to be you? Why not me?_ _I wish it had been me._

"Joe, c'mon. Visiting hours are over." Mom looks around the door at me.

"Mom, he's just lying there. He doesn't even react to anything."

"I know. We just have to hope, Joe. Hope and pray."

_Prayer?__ Prayer! Mom, please, how pathetic can you get? I prayed every night that nothing too serious would happen to my loved ones because of my choice to be an amateur detective. And those loved ones included Nancy. Where was God when she got shot?_

I take one final glance at my brother, whose gaze is fixed on the hospital ceiling, just like this morning when we brought him in. I decide to try one final thing.

"Frank. Nancy's funeral is tomorrow. I think she'd have wanted you to be there, not stuck in the hospital, grieving."

_Nancy__? What about Nancy? Nancy, would you want me at your funeral? Do I want to be at your funeral, watching them put you in the ground? Do I?_

Frank's eyes flicked to me for a brief moment, then away. But that moment lifted my hopes. My brother could still hear me. But was he listening, or were the words just waves of sound?

"Please, sir. Visiting hours have ended."

"Just one more moment. Please. I think I may be able to get through to him."

The nurse sighs. "One moment. That's all."

"Frank, I know you miss her. Everyone does. And I know, better than anyone, how much this is hurting you….you and Nancy were special. And I know that you think joining her may be a very good idea right now. But Frank…Nancy wouldn't want that. She'd want justice. You know that."

_"Frank. Go after him." Yes. She did want me to go after him. To be the detective even while she lay there. But I couldn't, Nancy. I couldn't leave you. And I don't know if I can stand the see that guy again, even to send him to jail or death. I wanted to kill him when they brought him in, Nancy. That's the justice I wanted. A life for a life. Without the law. _

_"Frank, go after him."_

"Frank, go after him. Get him in court."

_Can I? Can I?_

"Sir, you must leave now."

"Alright…" I walk out the door, but not before I notice that Frank's face is no longer devoid of expression. It seems he's waging an internal war. Go ahead, Frank. Fight what's keeping you a shell, come back to us. "Nancy would want it."


	6. Prison

﻿ 

**_A/N: Please note: This part, which was mainly written to give a bit of a break from the angst before I dive back in, is once again with the criminal. Some things concerning the Bible are here, simply to show the way his mind works. They are not meant to be a religious statement in any way; they are merely to demonstrate how outside the box this guy really is._**

"So what are you staring at?"

"What?"

"I said, what are you staring at?"

"Nothing."

"So my face is nothing, is it?

"N-no. Uh...never mind. I'll just look that way."

What happened to the good old clichés? The "what are you in for?" line so frequently on TV? I mean, aren't I supposed to tell him I'm here for killing a famous amateur detective and he's supposed to says he's here for armed robbery? And then he asks me which detective and I tell him and he tells me she's the reason he's here? Ok, so maybe that's too much fantasy, but isn't that what's supposed to happen? I thought so anyway.

Instead, I'm sitting in here, staring at the wall, bored out of my skull. I thought being a criminal, even if I was arrested, was supposed to be exciting. I mean, it's always made to be that way in the movies. And criminals always get their fifteen minutes of fame. But no reporter has spoken to me, no one has sent me letters, not even hate mail. Aren't people supposed to be outraged at me for killing her?

"Hendricks."

"Hmm?"

"Your lawyer has arrived."

"Oh." Lawyer. Ha! I don't trust them and never have. But I need one, even though I don't want one, if I want to avoid being killed. After all, the Bible says that he who kills another man shall himself be put to death. Wait...that's only another man, not a woman...I wonder if I could argue...no, no...the religious argument would never work...besides, they would state that "man" encompasses all humans, really. That means...hey, the Bible condones murder! If you kill a person, someone needs to kill you. And when that person has killed you, someone has to kill them, since that person also took a life. And so on and so on. Whoever thought that one up wasn't too bright...

"Hendricks!"

"What!" Damn guard, interrupting my philosophical thought processes...I sigh and get up to go meet my lawyer, some jerk I hired just because I need one and because he was cheap. He probably won't really help me anyway...all he's in it for is the money.

"So, "the guard says as we walk down the hallway. "I hear you're going to try to plead self-defense?"

"Yeah...d'you think it'll work?" I ask, just before he turns me over to my lawyer.

His laughter rings in my ears as he walks off. Honestly, why does everyone find it so amusing? It's the truth! Now if I can just get my lawyer to believe it...


	7. Funeral

﻿ 

It was not gloomy and rainy. Instead, it was bright and sunny. He hated it. And he hated the young man standing next to the pastor with an even greater passion.

_Why didn't you protect her, Hardy? Huh? Why not? She claimed you cared more about her than I did, but at least I never let her DIE!_

Ned knew, of course, that his thinking was irrational. After all, he had been in several situations where Frank had managed to get to Nancy before him. So he knew that blaming Frank was wrong….well, some part of him did. Most of him was boiling mad and overflowing with grief. As the pastor droned on, he shook, and began to clench and unclench his hands.

He felt a reassuring hand on his wrist as his fists clenched for about the tenth time. "Ned, please. Not here." He turned to look into the anguished blue eyes of Bess.

"But, Bess, he…" She silenced him with a look, indicating they would talk later, and turned to hear the rest of the pastor's words.

Afterwards, when it was all over, he wandered a short distance away, trusting that if Bess really wanted to talk to him, she'd follow. And follow she did, as well as George.

"Ned," Bess began. "You can't blame Frank for this." George nodded in silent agreement. "He's already beating himself up enough….he doesn't need you adding to the guilt."

"Besides," George added. "Nancy would be really mad at you if you keep blaming Frank."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. George was right – Nancy had berated him constantly for being jealous of Frank and blaming the other guy for things beyond his control. "Yeah….she would….." He turned his gaze to look at Frank, who stood as if frozen by the grave. Ned couldn't be sure, but it looked as if Frank might be crying, if the way his head was down and his hunched shoulders meant anything. Then he looked back to Bess and George.

"C'mon….we should be leaving." The three of them walked off to the cars, with Ned briskly leading the way.

_Later_

Bess and George were in Bess's room that evening, George doing stretches on the floor, and Bess silently applying nail polish, just for something to do.

"Bess," George said, breaking the little concentration her cousin had on her task. Startled, Bess spilled the polish on her bedspread.

"Oh no!" Bess frantically grabbed tissues to try to wipe it off.

"It was an old one anyway," George said, calmly. "It gives you an excuse to buy a new one."

"Yeah, but Nancy helped me pick this one out," Bess said faintly. George got up to hug her cousin.

"I'm sorry, Bess, I didn't know."

"S'ok," Bess sniffled. "I've shopped without her there before, it's just…."

"I know." George gave her another hug. She had never had much patience with her cousin's shopping addiction, or frequent attempts to lose weight. Nancy had had that patience, and understood the thrills of bargain hunting. George understood shopping only when it involved getting necessary clothing, like formal wear or sports outfits, than just for the fun of it. But she resolved to try a little harder, since Nancy was gone. She would adjust – everyone would, eventually.

"So," Bess said, after another minute of sniffling. "What did you want?" George suddenly felt reluctant to say, but since the thought was already there…..

"I wanted to ask you…..do you agree with Ned?"

"That Frank failed?" Bess queried. George nodded. "No. Frank loved Nancy. I've noticed that a lot of times on cases." She gave a wicked grin. "Especially that one in Egypt that I told you about."

George laughed, remembering her cousin's description. Bess had been so excited that she'd called George immediately after they got home to tell her that she'd accidentally interrupted a moment between Nancy and Frank.

_"And I felt so embarrassed, and of course I left them alone immediately. Nancy denied anything, but she can't lie to me, George. I'm sure that more than just hand holding was going on on that balcony! I mean, they'd been gazing at each other the whole time we were solving the case…"_

"Yeah, I noticed it, too…Frank would have done anything for her. If he could've, I bet he would've taken the bullet instead…." George trailed off.

Bess nodded emphatically. "Exactly. And Ned knows it. I think more than the rest of us, except perhaps Joe, Ned noticed how Frank felt, and how Nancy felt toward Frank. He was just better at ignoring it. What's upsetting Ned, though, was that Frank _couldn't_ take the bullet instead."

"Yeah….I just wishing he would stop glaring at Frank like he'd like to kill him. Joe says Frank's really been devastated by all this…you know, he was in the hospital yesterday, and is actually supposed to go back tonight…they weren't going to let him come at all," Bess covered her mouth at that, "but I think Mr. Drew and Mr. Hardy pulled a few strings."

"Not let Frank attend the funeral?" Bess gasped. "That would've made him ever worse!"

George agreed. "But I'm not sure attending helped him much, either."


	8. Trial Begins

﻿ 

**_A/N: I tried writing this in true trial format….it didn't work. So….yeah. I've done the best I can, hope you all can forgive me. After all, my imagination is nothing like a real courtroom. Also, this is super short because while I would love to put in Frank and Hendrick's testimonies at this time, they have to wait. _**

"Hear ye, Hear ye, Hear ye….all rise for his Excellency, the Honorable Judge Caddis."

And so it began. The trial of Ian Hendricks, accused kidnapper of Frank Hardy and Nancy Drew, and accused murderer of Nancy Drew. Two counts kidnapping. One count second-degree murder.

Witnesses came and went. Policemen took the stand to explain the details of Hendrick's arrest and questioning. How he had originally been taken stopped on a traffic violation, but the man's apparent mental state prompted the police to bring him in. His apparent lack of remorse during questioning.

The medical examiner gave evidence that Nancy did indeed die of a gunshot wound to the lower abdomen. Photos were presented, that many present found difficult to look at. The defendant, however, appeared fascinated.

The doctors who examined Frank for shock. The EMTS spoke. Everything they said was similar: severe emotional distress upon arrival, elevated heart rate, etc. etc.

Carson Drew took the stand, his voice breaking slightly as he answered the questions put to him. When asked to give a summary, he didn't have much to say.

(**_A/N: Both the answers for Carson and Joe are summaries only_**)

"Nancy and the Hardy brothers were off on a case in Ohio. On the day Nancy and Frank were abducted, Nancy was supposed to be flying to Chicago, then catching the train to River Heights. But when Nancy didn't arrive home on the day she was supposed to, I didn't worry too much. I just assumed she'd missed her flight and would be staying with the Hardys for another day. It happens sometimes, if a case wrap-up doesn't move as quickly as expected. It…it wasn't until I called Fenton that night and found out Joe had reported Frank as missing that I began to worry. And then….I got the call the next morning..." After a few more moments of questioning, Carson was allowed to sit down, looking shaken. Fenton Hardy's testimony was much the same.

When Joe took the stand, his answers were simple.

"I stayed in the hotel room for a nap while Frank took Nancy to the airport. I wasn't too tired, actually, but I figured Frank and Nancy would want to spend some time alone together before she went back home. There was a chemistry between the two of them they didn't get to acknowledge until very recently, so when Frank didn't return within the time frame I expected, I figured that they'd missed Nancy's plane and that they'd gone off together for a romantic dinner. But when still didn't come back, I called Dad. I knew Frank wouldn't have disappeared for so long without at least contacting me, unless he was in some sort of trouble." Shortly after that, Joe was allowed to return to his seat.

Based on Joe's testimony, the atmosphere suddenly changed, becoming charged with a heavy sense of apprehension. If Frank and Nancy were as close as his brother claimed, then an outburst from Frank Hardy during testimony could certainly be expected. Especially as the press began to recall the testimony of a police officer, who'd said Frank had encountered Hendricks in the station and acted like a madman.

And how would Hendricks react? Everyone knew that he had sat unaffected throughout the trial, seemingly perfectly unworried about the verdict these proceedings might lead to. Would he deliberately try to unsettle Frank during testimony? Would he lash out at Frank when it came his turn to testify?

Media attention grew as the day that Frank and Hendricks were to testify came closer. Vans with channel logos permanently parked outside of the courthouse were now an everyday sight. So were the ones parked outside the Drew home where Frank Hardy stayed, and the prison Ian Hendricks currently resided in. Despite several attempts to dissuade the reporters from their invasion Frank Hardy's privacy, they did not desist. The public would not let them. Nancy Drew had been well-known and the testimonies of two men were to be the deciding factors in the verdict of the hottest trial of the year.


	9. Shouted Words

﻿ 

Two young men sat staring at each other in the middle of the Drew's living room. Hannah sighed wearily when she spotted them as she emerged from the kitchen. The tension between Frank and Ned had only increased of late, rather than lessening. She honestly didn't know what Bess and George had been thinking when they'd sent Ned over to see how everyone was doing. Surely they would have known that Ned would stay longer than necessary, just for a chance to glare at Frank.

_Then again,_ Hannah mused. _Maybe they did know._

Shaking her head, she moved on to Carson Drew's study, where she found the man slumped in his desk chair, eyes closed in a restless sleep. Gently, she reached forward and tapped him on the arm.

"Carson….Carson, wake up."

He blinked at her. "Wha-? Oh, Hannah." Straightening in his chair, he rubbed his eyes slowly. "I fell asleep working again, huh?" At her nod, he groaned. "Well, I guess it's time for some coffee, then. I've got to get this finished by next week, or else-"

"You don't need to finish it for quite a while, Carson, and you know it!" Hannah scolded. "I distinctly remember hearing you call in to the law firm and give all your cases over to that assistant of yours, Hasl, for the month."

"Yes, but I forgot to turn this one over to Hasl, and-"

"And so you'll call him in the morning, and ask him to come over tomorrow evening to get it." Her voice softened. "Carson, I know you miss Nancy. I do too. You two're like family to me. But throwing yourself into your work to the point of exhaustion just isn't the way to handle it. Please," she implored. "Stop this. I don't want you in the hospital."

Carson started to answer her, but they were interrupted by shouting from the direction of the living room.

"Oh no," Hannah muttered, as she and Carson raced into the other room to see what was wrong.

Frank and Ned stood less than a foot apart from each other, glaring. _If looks could kill,_ Hannah thought wryly, before wincing at her thought. Such was the animosity between the two. She had no doubt that a fight would start soon, and she almost wished for one. She briefly wondered if that was what Bess and George had had in mind, as well. Anything that got the two to come to their senses would be welcome.

As if knowing what Hannah expected to see, Ned shoved Frank backwards. "Bastard," he growled. "I'm sick of you moping around."

"And why the hell should I care what you think of my actions!" Frank snapped in return, standing firmly, though Hannah noticed his hands had become violently shaking fists. "Give me one good reason!"

Carson put a warning hand on Hannah's arm as she took a step forward. "Don't interrupt them," he murmured. "I have a feeling this may do more good than harm, and will actually be over with shortly."

"Nancy cared!" Ned cried out.

"In case you hadn't noticed, NANCY'S DEAD!" Frank roared back.

"AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT? YOU DIDN'T PROTECT HER!" Ned gave Frank another shove.

"YOU THINK I DIDN'T TRY? IF I COULD'VE TAKEN THAT BULLET, I WOULD'VE! I DIDN'T KNOW HE HAD ANOTHER GUN! I DIDN'T KNOW!" Frank's face was turning purple by now, and there seemed to be tears at the corner of his eyes. "WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?" He glared at Ned. "Tell me," he repeated himself, more quietly. "What would you have done?"

"I…." the other man was at a loss for words.

"You what, Ned? You're so full of belief about what I should have done, c'mon. Answering this should be easy." Frank watched his opponent's face carefully. "Or, maybe it isn't…" he said, as several emotions flicked across Ned's face. The other man said nothing, but abruptly moved toward the door. "A word of advice, Ned," he commented just before Ned went out the door. "The next time you want to accuse someone of failure…..don't." The sound of the door slamming was his answer.

Frank sighed, and seemed to notice Hannah and Carson for the first time. A sorrowful look came into his eyes, and he collapsed into the nearest chair, tears beginning to leak from his eyes.

Carson and Hannah tiptoed back to the study and turned to face each other.

"Well," Carson said, sounding oddly relieved. "I think we won't have any more problems between those two for a while."

"Are you sure? It felt anticlimactic to me."

Carson nodded. "They both needed a chance to make it clear how they felt. They've done that, and fortunately without actually coming to blows. I have a feeling that was more for the sake of Nancy's memory than anything. Otherwise, Ned would've done more than shove, and Frank would've retaliated. And now Frank is beginning to accept that there was no way he or anyone could have saved Nancy, no matter how hard they tried. I personally think he may have feared, without even admitting it to himself, that Ned would've been able to keep her alive. But Ned had no answers, therefore…" His voice trailed off and he rubbed his forehead wearily. "Anyways, I expect things will start getting better between them, though I doubt they will ever really be friends again."

"I see." Hannah glanced at the clock. "Get some sleep Carson – and in your room, not down here. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"Alright, Hannah."

The two said their good-nights, and went to bed, each silently wondering what they would hear during the next day in court.


	10. Frank

﻿ 

**A/N: While stating the year would make this seem even more realistic, I'm omitting that, since the ND/HB books never mention years either. The name of the town where Frank and Nancy were held, does not exist that I know of; I just made it up.**

"Please raise your right hand." He did so. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

"You may be seated."

The young man sat down slowly, watching the courtroom as he did so.

"State your name for the record, please."

"Frank Hardy."

"Frank, I understand you are an amateur detective. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"I am also told you investigated at times with your brother, Joseph Hardy, and a friend, Nancy Drew. Am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Frank, you told police you and Nancy Drew had been abducted on the morning of March 5, while returning home after an investigation, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Just you and Nancy?"

"Yes."

"Why not Joseph?"

"Our case had been in Ohio. After it was over, I drove Nancy to the airport for a flight back to Chicago, while Joe napped at the hotel."

"I see. What exactly happened when you reached the airport, Frank?"

"We pulled into the parking lot, parked, and began walking toward the airport entrance. Midway there, we spotted a man who seemed to be having engine trouble. Nancy and I walked over to see what we could do to help. Nancy offered to loan him her cell phone to call for a tow truck, and when she handed it to him, he grabbed her." Frank stopped for a moment. "I stepped forward, thinking maybe I could talk him into letting her go, and he pulled a gun. Nancy and I were forced into his car at gunpoint, and he made sure to keep the gun aimed at one of us while he secured the other, to prevent us from fighting back."

"Frank, was this the same man who was also your captor for the following week?"

"Yes."

"Is he here now?"

"Yes."

"Please point him out."

Frank raised his arm and pointed straight at Hendricks, glaring at the other man as though he'd like to kill him. Hendricks smiled slightly, and Frank's face slowly began to purple.

"Let the record show the witness has indicated the defendant."

As if nothing had happened, Frank schooled his features to calmness, and returned his gaze to the prosecutor.

"Frank, you mentioned he secured you in the car. How?"

"He handcuffed us, with our hands behind our backs, to the doors, and gagged us."

"And after that?"

"We drove for a while. I tried to look at road signs, but we were on back roads for most of the way, and he deliberately drove in circles a few times, so I gave up. I spent most of the ride trying to communicate with Nancy."

"Excuse me, if I'm correct, you stated a minute ago that you were gagged."

"That's correct."

"Then, how, exactly, did you plan on communicating with Miss Drew?"

Frank sighed. Seated in the benches provided for courtroom audiences, family and friends wondered how exactly he would answer. "We….Nancy and I…we had a connection between the two of us. We worked well together, and were closer friends, because of it. It was if our minds ran on the same tracks...sometimes we'd finish thoughts for each other. Sometimes, words weren't even needed. She just instinctually knew what I was thinking, and I'd feel the same….I'd hoped that if I could make eye contact with her in the car, that…well, that we could hold one of our silent conversations."

"You say you'd hoped – does this mean you were unable to catch her eye?"

Frank shook his head. "No…I caught her eye, but…I could tell she didn't have any ideas and neither did I. There wasn't any feasible way to get out of the car, and no sense of where we were going, so I just…." Frank faded off, sounding half-embarrassed, half-angered.

"You just what?"

"I...I fell asleep watching Nancy, and didn't wake up until we got there. I didn't plan to but I knew Nancy would've woken me up if there'd been a chance to escape."

"And where is this "there" you speak of?"

"An abandoned warehouse, in Elmsville. It's a city about an hour and a half from Cincinnati."

"Did you stay in this location for the entire week?"

"Yes."

"How were you treated?"

"For the most part, he left us alone. For bathroom and food breaks, he'd leave one of us handcuffed while he stood guard over the other. We had no privacy, and I could see it was embarrassing Nancy, though she tried not to show it. He took our gags off sometimes, so we could talk to each other."

"Did you and Miss Drew talk about escape?"

"Sometimes. Hendricks had told us that we would be released after our ransom was paid, but Nancy and I knew that once a kidnapper's name and face is known, it isn't likely that the victims will be returned alive. We'd already tried to pick the cuffs, but none of the stuff we found on the floor was useful, so we debated over jumping him when he came in to escort one of us to the bathroom or feed us."

"Did you try such a method?"

"On our last day….he told us he was making the final call, and that if we behaved, he'd take off the cuffs, so we could reassure our families that we were safe. Maybe he thought that after a week, we were suffering from Stockholm Syndrome and it'd be okay to release us. I don't know."

"What exactly happened that day, Frank?"

"We woke up, and Hendricks came in to feed us and such….he told us he'd be making the call that afternoon and he'd let us out of the handcuffs then. When he left, I told Nancy that we should try getting the best of him then, since it'd be two against one. I figured we could stun and disarm him fast enough…we both had martial arts training. Nancy…Nancy was…reluctant." Guilt crept into Frank's voice, though he spoke as steadily as ever. "I think she suspected Hendricks might have prepared for the possibility of us fighting back. He knew enough of our history as detectives, after all. But I…I talked her into it. And when he came in later, he had his cell in hand, and I could hear Dad on the other end. Hendricks told him to wait, and uncuffed us …" He trailed off.

"Please continue, Frank."

Frank's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He shut it and blinked a moment, clearly struggling with the thought of voicing the next set of memories.

"Frank. What happened next?"

Still no answer from the young man, merely an audible swallow, and more furious blinking. The prosecutor allowed him another moment, then entreated him a third time.

"Frank. You need to tell us what happened next, no matter how difficult it may be."

The younger man nodded, swallowed once more, and began. "Hendricks turned his back on me while he uncuffed Nancy. I took the chance, and the minute she was loose, I attacked Hendricks from behind. He had his gun in one hand and the cell in the other. When I hit him, they both went flying. Nancy went for the gun while I kept fighting Hendricks. But….he landed a good blow to my head, and I landed against the wall, my back to him and Nancy. I…I wasn't worried, since I knew Nancy would get the gun before he did, and she could hold her own…but…"

"But, what, Frank?"

"There….there was a gunshot as I was getting up. I looked over at Nancy…and…and I realized I'd really messed up. Hendricks…he'd had another gun…he'd pulled it out…and….Nancy…she was on the floor. He'd shot her…I forgot about Hendricks then."

"Why?"

"Nancy. She…there was blood…and…I just forgot…I forgot everything but her. She was hurt…" Frank stopped, his voice caught in his throat as he shook his head. "There was…nothing I could do to help. I tried…but…she was…she'd lost so much blood…and …she…she'd told me…to go after Hendricks…but I couldn't…she needed help…but then…her eyes closed and I couldn't find a pulse…"

"911 reported a call from your area at about 3:33 pm, near the time the medical examiner believes Miss Drew died. You're the one who called, correct?"

Frank nodded. "I had to leave her; I had to call for help...I didn't want to...I got back to her as fast as I could, but…"

The prosecutor took pity on him then, noticing the young man was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "From now on, Frank, just nod or shake your head, all right?"

"Objection, Your Honor! The witness is still able to speak clearly." The defense looked smug. The judge thought for a moment.

"Objection sustained. But due to the witness's state of distress, the prosecution will please try expedite questioning."

"Yes, Your Honor. Frank, am I correct that the ambulance arrived about ten minutes after your call?

"Yes. But…it was too late. I tried not to believe it…but…"

"Just a few more questions, Frank. You were treated for shock at the hospital, were you not?"

"Yes."

"And later admitted for dehydration, correct?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I stopped eating for a few days after…everyone got worried."

"While you were in the hospital, you saw a grief counselor, correct?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Frank. That's all." The prosecutor turned to the defense. "Your witness."

The defense attorney walked over to stand before Frank. "Mr. Hardy, you stated you attacked my client before he shot Miss Drew, correct?"

"Yes."

"He was unaware of your intent to hit him and reacted defensively, correct?"

"Yes."

"If Miss Drew had reached the gun, would she have shot my client?"

"I don't know." Frank mumbled.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Does you honestly mean you had not discussed what would be done with the gun during your planning to get away?"

"We had, but…"

"No further questions, Your Honor."

"You may step down, Mr. Hardy." Frank returned to his seat, and slumped down. "The court will now take a brief recess, and when we return, we will hear Mr. Hendricks' testimony."


	11. Hendricks

﻿ 

"Please raise your right hand…Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

"I swear."

"You may be seated." And so it began. "State your name for the record, please."

"Ian Hendricks."

"Ian, you are accused of kidnapping Frank Hardy and Nancy Drew. Do you deny this?"

"No."

"You are also accused of second-degree murder in the case of Miss Drew. Do you deny this?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Cuz I didn't plan to kill her. It was self defense, that was all. And I'm well within my rights to defend myself."

"Ah. We'll get back to that later. Ian, why did you kidnap Nancy Drew and Frank Hardy?"

The man shrugged. "Seemed an okay idea at the time."

"Are you implying it was a spur-of-the-moment decision?"

"Not exactly. If it had been spur-of-the-moment, then my having handcuffs with me would lead to some uncomfortable questions, wouldn't it? No, I'd planned to kidnap someone, and they just happened to come along at the right time."

"Why were you planning on kidnapping someone?"

Hendricks paused a moment, and a confused look came across his face. "Well…why not? We all get into trouble for something…may as well be for something major than something minor."

"So you decided on kidnapping?"

"Yeah."

"…Have you ever been "in trouble," as you put it, before?"

"No. I know you're asking if I've ever been convicted of a felony, and I haven't."

"I see…Let's get back to the kidnapping, Ian. Did you know that Miss Drew and Mr. Hardy were well-known amateur detectives?"

"Well, they looked familiar. It wasn't until I actually thought about it that I realized who they were."

"I see…Ian, why don't you fill us in on your account of what happened?"

"Well….do you want me to start on the day I kidnapped them or just skip to the grand finale?"

"Everything, please."

"On the day I kidnapped them, I saw them coming toward me. They looked like a pretty good pair to kidnap – looked like someone cared about them, wouldn't mind paying for them. So, I made it look like I had engine trouble, and when Drew offered me her phone, I grabbed her. Pulled out my gun and held it to her, so that Hardy would go along with whatever I wanted him to do."

"And what did you have him do?"

"Made him get in the car first. He was the guy – I figured he would cause more trouble if I didn't secure him. I'm kind of surprised he didn't try anyway."

"Why were you surprised?"

"Cuz he probably could've overpowered me then, no problem, and yeah, Drew might've gotten shot, but she probably wouldn't have gotten killed. But he was the good little boy, worried I'd hurt his partner, so he behaved and we all know how that turned out. If he had just fought back, none of us would be here now, or at least not under quite these circumstances."

"The same could be said, Mr. Hendricks, of your decision to kidnap Miss Drew and Mister Hardy."

"Yeah, I suppose so. But hey, like I said, may as well get in trouble for the big stuff. Anyways, then I got Drew in the car, and took off. About ten minutes into the drive, I realized who they were…so I drove in circles a bit. I figured they would try that kiddie trick of memorizing the turns or streets or something, which is why I did it. After about forty-five minutes, I glanced back at them, and noticed Hardy was sleeping. Funny, I thought detectives were always supposed to be alert, and on the lookout, but there was Hardy, sleeping, and Drew gazing at him, her head off in the clouds somewhere."

Joe Hardy, who was seated beside his brother in the audience, could've sworn he heard a low growl coming from his brother's direction. He risked a glance, and, whether Frank was the source of the noise or not, it was clear his brother disagreed with Hendrick's assessment of Nancy's abilities to stay alert. Sighing, he turned his attention back to Hendricks.

"I went in to the warehouse to double-check the room I was going to put them in. Now that I knew who they were, I knew they were stubborn kids and might try something a regular hostage wouldn't think of. But I'd already cleaned it up of anything that could be used to get rid of the cuffs. So I got Drew to wake up her Sleeping Beauty, and escorted them in."

"Mr. Hendricks," the questioner began as a brief, angry, cry emitted from the audience. "Please try to refrain from comments that might cause unnecessary unrest in this courtroom."

"Well, that would be my whole testimony, then, wouldn't it? Anyways, I can't help it if I speak what I see as the truth – that's what you asked for."

Joe quickly grabbed his brother's arm, to stop the young man from rising in protest. Frank glared at him, but settled back in his seat.

"After that, it's just what Hardy said…I left them alone most of the time, just bound up in one of the rooms in that warehouse. Most of the time I wasn't there, which is why I took their gags off sometimes so they could talk. I wasn't really worried about them escaping, since I made sure before I put them in the room they were in that there was nothing they could use to pick the lock. When I was around, I'd feed them one at a time; let them use the bathroom one at a time. Though I didn't watch, like Hardy wants you to believe; I just looked at the wall. I'm not without honor, after all. I called Mr. Drew with the ransom demand first, on the second day. Then I called Mr. Hardy later that evening. They certainly seemed upset, and I guess I couldn't blame them."

"You guess?"

"Well, yeah. I personally don't know what it's like to have a child gone missing, since I'm no parent, but I'm willing to bet it's an awful experience."

"What happened on the last day, the day you intended Frank and Nancy to talk to their parents?"

"Went in that morning, told them they could talk to their parents. Said if they behaved, I'd undo their bonds. I knew they probably didn't believe me, since most kidnappers kill their victims if the victim knows their name, face, or both. But I really meant to return them, unharmed even. Just to show there's still hope when your family member gets kidnapped. And I figured untying them couldn't hurt – there was nowhere they could go, even if they tried to escape. And they'd probably need to stretch out and stuff…Anyways, that afternoon, I got Mr. Hardy on the cell, and went into their room, so that Hardy could talk to papa. I uncuffed him and turned to Drew, figuring he'd pick up the phone. Course, he didn't."

"What did he do?"

"Attacked me from behind…it didn't hurt so much as catch me by surprise. Lost my usual gun and the phone though; they went flying…That was a good cell, too…kept working even after that."

"Please don't deviate from the subject."

"Okay, okay…but if anyone wonders what brand it was-"

"Sir, please."

"Fine. Anyways, Hardy and I kept fighting each other…he landed a few punches on me that really hurt. Bad enough that I wondered if, if he won, he'd just keep attacking me. I know kidnap victims snap sometimes. But then I saw the Drew girl going for the gun, and I panicked. I knew those two would know how to operate guns. I figured, if Hardy had already jumped me from behind, what would stop Drew from shooting me? Suddenly, I just felt a powerful surge go through me, and I managed to knock Hardy against the wall so I could go after Drew. Amazing what happens when adrenaline kicks in. Then I realized that I didn't need to go after her; I had my extra gun with me. So I fired a warning shot at her….and it hit her in the abdomen. There was so much blood, then….and in real life, it looks so much different than on TV…brighter…I looked at it for a minute, while Hardy went over to her, whimpering like a baby or maybe it was more like a beaten puppy…I can understand his being upset, but death is a risk in their line of work, and so are accidents while being kidnap victims. See, I didn't mention this earlier, but it was because they were detectives that I really decided to keep them. After all, if I could release famous teen detectives unharmed, then wouldn't that give an example to others?

Anyway, I got the hell out of there after a minute of shock. Grabbed my phone from the floor, since though the call had ended, it seemed to be still working, and left. Drove off…but the cops got me in the next town over."

"No further questions, Your Honor."

"You may step down, Mr. Hendricks."


	12. A Verdict

﻿ 

**_A/N: Closing statements here are relatively short, mainly because the one time I sat in court (for an assignment) and heard closing arguments, each side went on for an hour. Imagine how much writing that would be, lol. Also, I struggled a long time with the ending to this chapter – I had to make certain, by doing something I rarely do when writing a fic and plan far ahead, to see how best to end this._**

The prosecutor stood to face the jury.

"Your Honor, ladies and gentleman of the jury, over the past week and a half, you have heard countless testimonies, all of which substantiate the state's belief that Ian Hendricks is indeed guilty as charged. You have heard from the EMTs who arrived at the scene, who rushed Nancy Drew to the hospital, only to have her pronounced dead on arrival. You have heard from the police officers who were responsible for capturing Hendricks. He showed no remorse at the time of his arrest, they told you this. You have heard from Frank Hardy, who was abducted along with Miss Drew and was an eyewitness to her demise. You have heard it from Hendricks himself, that he abducted Frank and Nancy, and later killed Nancy. The defense would have you believe it was self-defense, but if it was, why did Hendricks have a spare gun? _Because he was prepared for the possibility of attack._ The judge will remind you to weigh all evidence carefully before you reach your verdict. I trust that you will do so, and that you will come to the conclusion that Ian Hendricks must be punished for this crime."

The jury sat, impassive and apparently unmoved, as this went on, and, much to Joe's relief, they remained so as the defense gave its own closing argument.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Your Honor, Ian….We are here because Ian made a mistake. He has admitted such. He regrets it. He is willing to face his punishment. But only for the crimes he committed. And he did not commit second-degree murder, despite what the prosecution says.

The prosecution's own medical examiner admitted that the fatal gunshot wound to Miss Drew's abdomen did not indicate definitively whether she was killed on purpose or accidentally.

Frank Hardy is the key witness. But, ladies and gentlemen, you heard from both Frank and his brother, that there was a distinct attraction between him and Nancy Drew. A strong enough attraction that those who knew them expected a romantic relationship to evolve. Frank was emotional when Ian shot Nancy in self-defense. He cannot be viewed as a reliable witness to Ian's intentions at the time, because of his emotional ties to Miss Drew.

In short, ladies and gentlemen, as the judge will remind you, if there are any doubts, you cannot return a guilty verdict. The prosecution has not been able to prove that Ian intended to kill Miss Drew; they have left some gaping holes. This is enough to give reasonable doubt, and therefore, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you must acquit my client."

Of course, the prosecution got to rebut this. After that, the judge read the instructions to the jury, and the men and women left for deliberations.

As the hours stretched by, it was realized the jury would not reach a verdict that evening. Joe left the courthouse, casting anxious glances at his grumbling brother. Fortunately, Frank withheld his comments until they were back at the Drew's home. But there, he let loose with the fireworks.

Pacing the floor at a speed that really didn't fit the definition of pace, though Joe didn't know how else to describe it, Frank let out with a series of complaints.

"What have they got to debate! He's guilty! GUILTY! How much more obvious can it be! I testified; they got to hear from the EMTS, the police…how the hell can they even think of believing him?"

"Well…" Joe said slowly, "they're probably having problems with the legal definition of self-defense."

"I don't care! What about the fact that Nancy and I were acting in self-defense!"

"I know, Frank, but…" Joe trailed off. The truth was, he wasn't sure what to say to Frank anymore. They both knew the law well enough to realize that anything was possible. "They have to consider everything," he mumbled.

"Fine!" Frank snapped. "So they consider everything. His flimsy excuses, my testimony, the photos from the medical examiner, the bullet casings, everything. That still should bring them to a nice, simple, guilty verdict. What more do they want, to see Nancy's body for themselves before they can believe it!"

Joe had no reply to that.

Court resumed session the next day, and for a while, it looked as though the jury wouldn't return a verdict today, either. But at about two in the afternoon, whatever debates might have been occurring in the jury room had ended, and the jury returned to the courtroom. Many in the audience found their stomachs to be twisted in knots, or to have suddenly become the home of butterflies, and no one was quite sure he wanted to hear the verdict.

The foreman handed the card to the bailiff, and with baited breath, everyone waited to learn how Ian Hendricks had been judged. Said defendant stood, the only one in the room who had even a slight aura of calmness about him.

"On the charge of kidnapping of the first degree, the jury finds the defendant…..guilty."

_One down, two to go, _Joe thought, partially relieved. He was actually glad the prosecution had gone for so few charges in this trial, though it also meant Hendrick's odds could be considered slightly better. Still, it was certainly kinder to the courtroom audience's nerves.

"On the charge of kidnapping of the second degree, the jury finds the defendant…guilty."

_And now comes the biggie…_Joe stole at glance at his brother, who sat like a statue, not speaking, facing straight ahead, breathing shallowly. The final part of the verdict was the most important part to his brother, and Joe hoped it would be what he knew Frank wanted it to be.

"On the charge of murder of the second degree, the jury finds the defendant…not guilty."


	13. Frustration

﻿ 

**_A/N: Just so everyone knows, the verdict from the previous chapter is technically not possible. But for this fic's reality, it is._**

**DREW MURDERER NOT GUILTY!**

**Ian Hendricks acquitted of second-degree murder charge. **

**_Nancy Drew, the famous 18-year-old detective, was murdered a few weeks ago. Yesterday, her killer, Ian Hendricks, was found not guilty of second-degree murder, by reason of self-defense._**

Joe threw the paper onto the seat next to him angrily. He hated the press. Hated how they had made Nancy's murder sound like a run-of-the-mill event, with their uncaring articles. And the same tone had carried over to the reports of the verdict. Didn't they care that lives had been ruined? He looked at the article again, skipping ahead a few paragraphs

**_Family and friends of Drew appear to have found the jury's decision to be a shock. Sources indicate that Frank Hardy, in particular, has taken the verdict as a blow straight to the heart. Rumors abound that…_**

Rumors. Speculation. The press didn't care who they hurt, didn't care who had already suffered. But if they had been there that night, been there to see Frank at the hospital…

**(An hour after Nancy being declared dead)**

_"Frank?" Joe Hardy rushed in to meet his brother, who was sitting, head in hands, in the hospital waiting room. "Frank, what happened? I left the hotel the minute they called…drove here as fast as I could…"_

_"Nancy's dead." Frank's voice was surprisingly flat, devoid of all emotion._

_"What!" Joe gasped, feeling as though he'd been run over by a truck._

_"She's dead." Again, no emotion. But Joe looked at his brother closely, and could tell he was simply hiding the pain. He suspected Frank was afraid to let it out, afraid to break down in this cold hospital waiting room. Frank, Nancy, and Joe had been friends for years, but Frank and Nancy had shared something. They'd had a bond that was tighter than most, which drew them toward each other, although they'd never acted on it. They'd been involved with other people and neither liked the soap-opera-ish idea of leaving their significant others to date each other. _

_Joe said nothing, knowing that there was nothing he could say. When he lost Iola, Frank's words had held no comfort for him, and he knew Frank would feel the same if he tried to speak now. Instead, he simply sat down, and hugged his brother tightly. _

_Eventually, he knew, a breakdown would come. Eventually. And when it came, Joe wasn't sure if the fierce hold he had on his brother now, arm around Frank's shoulders, would even be noticed. So he gave it now while he could. _

_The two of them sat there, how long he didn't know, Frank like a useless mannequin in Joe's arms, until Carson Drew walked into the waiting room. Joe noted that the man's eyes were red, and he seemed to be staggering under an invisible weight. _

_"Hello, sir," he said slowly, unsure whether he really wanted to talk to this man at the moment, to deal with two broken people. He spotted a woman behind him. "Hello, Hannah." To avoid meeting their eyes, he stole a glance at the clock on the wall, and realized with shock that he and Frank had been there several hours. He looked back to the pair._

_"Hello, Joe," they both mumbled. Hannah looked worse than Mr. Drew, her face splotched and puffy, and a tissue clutched in her hand. _

_"Have you... Did you just get here?" 'Or did I miss you arriving earlier, too wrapped up in my own sadness?'_

_Carson shook his head. "We've been here for over three hours." Coughing, he added, "We had to make phone calls, to…to let everyone know that…" He couldn't finish._

Joe pulled himself from the memories. If the press had only been there, he had a feeling the article would read a lot more sympathetically today. But there was no use wishing for the past to be rewritten, and he sighed heavily.

Footsteps made Joe look up from the paper he no longer really saw. In the entryway to the Drews' kitchen, Frank Hardy stood. There were no words exchanged, Frank's eyes simply meeting Joe's for a moment, before he glanced at the paper. A muscle twitched near his eye as he read the headline, but he gave no other sign of his emotions. He turned then, and left Joe in the kitchen as abruptly as he'd arrived.

A few minutes later, Joe heard the sound of a car starting in the driveway. He reached the door in time to see their rental car turn the corner at the end of the street.


	14. Admission

﻿ 

For a long time, Frank just drove. And drove. He didn't quite know where he was going – he didn't care. He was too angry, too hurt, too…guilty.

He'd come to realize, of course, though understandably it would take some time for the guilt to leave, that Nancy's death was not his fault. But now, he felt as though he'd failed her, failed to get justice for her. He knew kidnapping could carry life imprisonment, and that's probably what Hendricks would receive, but he'd been hoping for more. He was hoping for the murder charge to go through. Life for life. Give and take. Were Hendricks remorseful, Frank wouldn't have minded the verdict as much. But Hendricks was not remorseful; he was twisted and found this whole thing slightly amusing.

Frank slowed the car to a stop in the lot of a small playground. He shut the engine off, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

_What do I do, Nancy? What do I do? _The mantra that had marched endlessly around in his head since the death of the one person he had thought never to lose was no longer the anguished cry that had been in his mind for most of the time since that day. Nor was it the infuriated rhythm that had driven him to leave the Drew home. It was simply an exhausted plea. His emotions had run the gamut, and so he had reached a low point again.

Sighing, he started the car again and drove toward Hendricks' current residence. He would not be allowed to interact with Hendricks, of course, but maybe…

_What do I do, Nancy? What do I do?_

Abruptly, tires squealing, he turned the car in a violent U-turn and headed toward the cemetery.

It was not a long walk to Nancy's grave, but all the while, the mantra repeated itself. He sat down beside the headstone, and slowly leaned against it. And then, he began to talk.

"I don't know what to do, Nancy. I've failed. Hendricks isn't going to be punished for your murder, despite the fact that he is guilty. He got off on a technicality, one I didn't even know existed. I know that he'll serve for your kidnapping, and he'll probably get life, but that's not enough for me. It doesn't seem punishment enough when I think of all he took from us. Your family, Hannah, Bess, George, Ned, and the rest of us. From you.

"It isn't fair," he growled. "Hendricks doesn't have a clue what we've lost, and he doesn't care. The son of a bitch doesn't care. All he cared about was how he was so misunderstood."

Frank paused for a moment. Thinking of Hendricks made him want to yell and shout again, but he would not do that here. He couldn't. He would save that for later. Just as he had somehow managed to bottle up most of his anger on the day the verdict was announced, after the judge threatened to either have him removed, hold him in contempt of court, or both. He couldn't lose his temper then, and especially not here, even though he felt Nancy would've understood. He just couldn't allow himself to do so. Taking a deep, slow breath, he got his temper under control and continued.

"Nancy, I…there were so many things we never said to each other. Things we waited on, and denied, because of Callie and Ned. I always figured that if the attraction between us lasted, we would get our chance sooner or later, without having to hurt those we cared about. It didn't matter how many narrow escapes we'd had; I still thought we'd always be teamed up, solving a case. If I'd known…then perhaps I wouldn't have said kissing you for the first time was a mistake. Maybe instead, I'd have tried to convince you it was the right thing, even if things had gotten messy after Ned showed up at the resort to help. If not then, I should've told you the truth in Egypt. I regretted it then, but after managing to escape one more time, I ignored the little voice inside me that urged me to speak up. I didn't want to admit that I didn't want to leave, since it would mean no longer playing your husband, getting to hold your hand and whisper in your ear. No more being able to admire you without it looking suspicious. And in New Orleans…I cheated on Callie then, with someone who meant less to me, but reminded me strongly of you, though I never mentioned it. That's really when I should have told you what you were to me.

I've been lost in these regrets, Nancy. I honestly thought of joining you, so that if there is a heaven, and if I could get there, I could tell you. And what hurts even more than not being able to tell you, is that I don't know how you felt. Did you regret anything in those last moments?"

Frank suddenly had a moment of panic. _What if she didn't have any regrets? What if I'm imagining that she felt the same way as me?_ It took a moment of concentration to remember how she'd looked at him in a cold cabin on a mountainside, when they weren't sure if they would freeze to death, and how that same look was in her eyes on a cool night in Egypt, with no danger in sight. And the numerous occasions when she seemed to hug him longer than Joe, as if she wanted to just be by him for a few extra seconds. No, it wasn't his imagination.

Unable to think of much else to say, he sat there for a few minutes, resting against the cool, smooth headstone. Then he stood to leave. "I miss you. Everyone does. And we all love you. I love you." Gently, he ran his fingertips over the curved stone. "Goodbye." And he walked away, shoulders hunched, hands in pocket, toward the car.

He was not at peace, no, but he felt a bit better.


	15. Winning and Losing

﻿ 

**_A/N: As I mentioned earlier, my verdict is technically impossible, unless there's a prosecutor and jury out there somewhere who really screw up. Therefore Hendricks cannot also receive the death penalty for the kidnappings, which he could if I'd followed every legal truth about the situation. I also know Hendricks seems a bit scattered here…I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't always think straight when I'm angry either._**

Another day, another piece of the court process. That's all this is, actually…an assembly-line. You start out at the beginning, this lovely unmolded scrap of humanity, perfectly malleable and untarnished. But by then end, if you haven't been pulled off the line early, you've been tarred, feathered, and are just something to put in a box and not think about anymore.

Well, screw it. I am not going to be that; I'm not going to fit their ideal of the perfect prisoner. Hell, no. Well…not yet, at least. I admit in time that it'll be nice to see Hardy's face as they give me privileges for good behavior. But right now, I'm pissed.

Ok, I killed her. I don't deny that. But, dammit, it was self-defense! Still, it isn't the jury's fault – they understood; they just convicted me of kidnapping, which they had to do. No, it's the prosecution and Hardy with his kicked-puppy look, making me look worse than I am, by even bringing up that charge of murder.

Now, I get to stand here in my suit, and wait for the sentence that will alter my life. Stand here, in my last appearance as a respected member of society, knowing even my appearance is a lie, seeing Hardy half-glaring, half-smirking at me across the way. He knows he's won. He knows he got the justice he wanted, even if he doesn't get to see me die. He knows I'm not getting out. That's the smirking side.

The jury will recommend life without parole. It's really the only option they have, anyway. After all, since I got off on the charge of killing Nancy Drew, then the death penalty is no option, but I did kill someone.

Hell, just Hardy's mocking expression is making me wish I'd killed two people. I mean, if I'm doing the time for one, why not both? Hell, if I'd killed him, I might not've ended up in this situation…ok, I would've eventually.

But the thing that really pisses me off is this: Hardy is more like me than he'll ever know. Not physically, no – he's got a good three inches and probably twenty pounds on me. And he's well…the prince charming type. Me, I'm more of the cute-guy-next door type: slightly curling auburn hair, sea-foam eyes, as Mom used to say, slightly on the skinny side. But I clean up nice, as more than one old girlfriend would often tell me. No, Hardy is like me in the sense that if he could kill me, he'd enjoy it.

But he'll never get to kill me. That's my one piece of gold in this bag of shit. I will live. And Hardy knows this. Hence, the glaring side: he knows damn well I've won. No matter how many times he tries to convince himself otherwise…

What's this? The other "Hardy boy" as those two are called – hmmm, maybe that's why Hardy sometimes looks so damn frustrated, well a reason beside me, ha ha…must be hard being labeled as a "boy" when he's old enough to be considered a "man" in the eyes of the law…but men don't cry when there's work to be done, Hardy boy, that's why you're a child still…

Anyway, that other Hardy boy looks, if anything, more upset than his brother at the moment…I wonder what the reason for this is? True, he was also close to Drew, but not like good old Frankie boy, nope, not unless he hides it better than his brother.

"Yes, Your Honor, I'm paying attention."

Not that you give a shit, anyway. No, you're thinking of the rest of the cases you'll deal with after mine. But still you have to go through the motions as if you actually care…poor guy. I pity you…so much like the rest of us, single-mindedly, working like dogs, and thinking only of warm food and a nice bed when the day is done…hoping we've earned enough to continue to have such luxuries, and wondering how to earn more…

That's another way I've won…I'm going to be fed and cared for by the system. Even if they give me busy work in jail, I'll not have to worry where my next meal is coming from. And it's tax dollars from the law-abiding citizens like Hardy that will be providing the money for that. Ha ha. Hardy's paying to keep me alive, though he wants me dead…oh, I love the irony…

Is it time to go already? Really? Well, that was faster than usual…maybe the judge missed his quota last week and is trying to catch up…

As I walk out, escorted none too gently, I may add, I can hear someone say "It's over". Hardy. Ha! As if, boy. It's only the beginning. I somehow don't think they can issue restraining orders in jail…and I'll so need to communicate with the outside world…


	16. Memories

﻿ 

**_A/N: For those who may wonder, I didn't mention other Hardy friends, since I'm not sure if Nancy knew them…however, I'm pretty sure she met Chet once, in one of the other crossover series besides the Supermysteries…I'm also relatively certain she knew of Vanessa, and I know she knew Callie, though if she ever met Vanessa and Callie, it happened behind the scenes, to the best of my knowledge. Memories expressed in this chapter come from my recollections of various books, and my own imagination, in case anyone is wondering._**

I never expected to feel this way at the end of it all. I expected to feel some sort of sense that justice had been done, that we had accomplished something. And instead…I'm feeling mostly exhaustion. Defeat. Loss.

I never noticed how much of my energy was going into this trial, into being there for my brother. My own grieving process, it seems, was temporarily halted while we fought to put Nancy's killer in jail. And now that it's over, now that he's going to sit in jail for the rest of his life, we have nothing else to do.

Sitting here, I look at the faces around me. We've all gathered here, in the Drew's living room, though no one seems to feel like celebrating. Instead, my parents are conversing quietly with Mr. Drew and Hannah; Ned and Frank are both staring off into space; Bess and George are playing a lackluster game of cards. I sit here, staring blankly at the television, wondering how Nancy's friends in Bayport are handling things. Feeling that they didn't know Nancy well enough, Chet, Callie, and Vanessa didn't come here for the trial, though they sent their condolences. But they must be grieving, too.

I know for a fact that were a few national news stations covering the trial, since Nancy had earned a name for herself. Sometimes it amazes me that she was ever able to go undercover, as strangers always seemed to know her. Still, she was a good actress. In fact…

**_(Abrupt perspective switch, sorry. We're now in third-person)_**

"Hey," Joe said, deciding it was about time they talked about the absent star of this tragedy. It was a clichéd tactic, but he'd heard it helped, and this stifling atmosphere was killing him. "Anyone got any good Nancy stories to tell?"

For a moment, everyone stopped. Then he was met by looks that, by varying degrees, all told him quite well that he was perfectly insane.

"Oh, come on…we're all sitting here, thinking of her. We're just not saying her name."

"Well…" Bess began slowly, "it's not a pleasant memory, but I remember when Nancy's clock, the one she got from her first case, became the object of another mystery. We ended up getting locked in a big ice cream freezer because of her investigation, and I remember telling her that the old clock might be her last case as well…at the time, it was a bit of morbid irony. But she wouldn't hear of it. And she was right, in the end."

George smiled. "I remember that. At the end of it, we celebrated with hot chocolate, even though it was summer."

"I remember Brenda Carlton pressuring her for details when we came here to investigate the body-snatchings," Frank said with a grin, "Nancy looked so irritated, I half-wondered if she was going to punch Brenda for being such a nuisance."

Everyone laughed. "Well, Brenda does have a talent for poking her nose in things…remember when we had her pose as Nancy? I'm still surprised Nancy didn't kill us for that when she found out…" Joe commented.

"Well, Joe, as I recall, you're the reason Brenda was there in the first place. I was an innocent."

"Oh, you were just as guilty for getting Brenda to do it as I was."

"Maybe so."

"Remember that time she got poisoned?" Ned asked.

"Which one?"

"The case with Allison of the alligator slippers."

"Yeah! Probably the worst dose of poison she'd ever suffered, and yet Nancy was laughing and looking for adventure again in no time. She always bounced back."

"Yeah…hey, remember when you called her a "teen sleuth, girl detective," Bess?"

Bess laughed. "Yes…she didn't take so kindly to that."

"What do you mean? I thought she took it rather well…"

"Oh sure, that's because you two helped her tickle me."

"Well, you did call us her "dimwitted assistants."

"What about the time she got squeezed by a robot?"

"Squeezed by a robot!"

"Yeah…at the time, it wasn't funny. But afterwards…"

"She knew how to fake a faint really well, too."

"You're telling me. The girl should've won an Oscar."

Carson broke into the teenagers' discussion. "I remember a time when Nancy was five," he said quietly. "We were at the fair, standing in line for the Ferris wheel. Suddenly, we heard someone yelling for help. A man ran toward us, holding a big purse in his hands. Nancy just looked at him, stuck her foot out, and down he went. She was proud she'd stopped him, but really upset that he'd hit her and knocked her caramel apple to the ground when he fell." Everyone chuckled.

"Remember her old dog, Togo?" Hannah asked. "I once found her trying to give Togo a bath, but just as I got there, he knocked her into the water instead."

"What about when she fooled not only the driver, but us, by putting that face gunk on the privacy window?"

"Yeah. I'll say it again: She deserved an Oscar. Her acting saved our butts more than once."

"Whereas you can't act at all…"

"Hey! I can so!"

"How many times did Nancy end up going over a cliff, anyone know?"

"More than I'd like to count. I'm surprised she didn't have a fear of heights."

"No…she loved flying too much to ever give up her fear of heights."

"Good thing, too…otherwise I can think of several cases that would've ended badly."

"Like your fiancé, Ned."

He winced. "Don't remind me. I'm so glad Nancy forgave me for that one."

"Well, what about the time…"

**_A/N: And that's where we'll leave them. I know that it's not a fully resolved ending, but I think it's better this way…there's honestly no other options to explore. Hendricks is stuck in a jail cell, and it's time to let the characters begin their healing. And that, I think, they can do without my help._**

**_I know I violated some legal issues: jurisdiction (since technically Nancy's case should've been tried in Ohio, not near River Heights), the verdict and the subsequent sentencing. However, this is a work of fiction, and though I study criminal justice, I'm only in my first year of courses for it...I'm bound to make mistakes. Not to mention our beloved trio have had some law-breaking/bending of their own in the past._**

**_It's been a long ride, and I'm so glad all of you offered support and critiques, and stuck with me to the end. _**

**TesubCalle****: My sounding board, who predicted certain events before they actually took place. I appreciate your listening to my complaints, my worries, and then immediately telling me whether they were founded or not. Thanks also for being a great beta. You let me know when I needed to tweak things, and when I was just fine, and for that, I'm truly grateful. **

**Ragna (ICE)land: I'm glad you enjoyed Hendricks so much. He was very entertaining to write. I think he's probably one of the best villains I've ever written, so it was good to know he wasn't disappointing to readers.**

**msnancydrew****: Thanks for being there at every step and letting me know I was doing a good job. Especially when it came to the emotional content, as those were the parts I also worried about my readers' reactions the most. Thanks also for believing this doesn't need even the slightest revision, when I mentioned that possibility. **

**merry****: Nice to know that you found my chapters worth waiting for.**

**nancy**** drew: Unfortunately, Nancy just couldn't be brought back. But I'm glad you kept reading anyway. **

**shadowdancer****: I'm glad you pointed out my error. But since I'd already constructed the plotline, I couldn't change the verdict. Still, I'll keep it in mind for next time. As to your suggestion on how to rewrite the fic and keep a similar ending, I think it would lose a good portion of the emotional impact. Labeling Hendricks as insane makes his actions slightly more excusable, and that means the verdict would not be so unexpected. Also, regarding your comment on having him committed, Hendricks is never going to be released. (No matter how much he tries to convince me to let him out, lol). So even if I were to take your suggestion, that would not be possible. I think I've put Nancy's family and friends through enough hell with this man.**

**Lady Emily: I hope you find the end satisfactory, and liked Frank's reactions to Hendricks.**

**nanfran****: Unfortunately, Nancy's gone for good. Well, at least in this fic. At the moment, I have no plans for sequels to this plotline, so Nancy, Frank, and Joe will all most likely remain alive no matter what in whatever I cook up next.**

**Sarah Jane: It was an interesting idea, but for this fic, Nancy had to be really dead.**

**Rohit**** Mundra: I hope you kept reading, even though I couldn't provide the whole story at once. **

**wildxtreme****: Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it.**

**Silentheaven****: I appreciate your review.**

**anonymous**** and proud to be one: I'm glad you thought it was one of my better stories.**

**Ashe: Thanks, I'm glad you think so!**

**PorscheDsgn****: Hope you kept reading and enjoyed it. **

**NSW: Glad you liked it.**

**Steph: Thanks for reading.**

**Amandaleb: Thanks very much for the kind review. I have something else in progress, so I hope you're around to read that when it's posted.**

**epalladino: Thanks. :D **

**Julzprice: Don't worry, my next project will definitely be more cheerful.**

**Lisa: Personally, I like Nancy. I'm upset I killed her off as well. But sometimes, no matter how much we love a character, they have to remain dead. Still, I'm glad you kept reading despite the fact I killed her.**

**a fan:) : It's good to know you enjoyed the graveyard scene and the conclusion, since those are definitely in the top three chapters I struggled most with (the other being the verdict).**

**SS/Destiny Daae : Glad to know you enjoyed it.**


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